


Coffee and God's Good Humor

by organanation



Series: TCOT Missing Movie Scene [1]
Category: Perry Mason (TV), Perry Mason - All Media Types, Perry Mason - Erle Stanley Gardner
Genre: AU: PM/DS Married, F/M, TCOT Maligned Mobster, missing moment, movie era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organanation/pseuds/organanation
Summary: Missing Moment from TV movie Maligned Mobster. Perry gets shot, but they never tell us how Della reacts or how Perry winds up in court the next morning...or, most importantly, how our very-put-together lawyer acts under the influence of strong pain medicine. A dash of angst with a whole lot of drugged-up-Perry fun. (ps, they're married in this, if I had to entice you any further)
Relationships: Perry Mason & Della Street, Perry Mason/Della Street
Series: TCOT Missing Movie Scene [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718392
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Coffee and God's Good Humor

"Have you taken your medicine?" It was a stupid question. Anyone could see from his scowl that Perry wasn't in the best of moods. And Della, of course, knew that the tightness around his jaw and the rigidness of his walk meant he was biting back pain with every tiny movement.

"No," he griped.

Della glanced at her watch: 4:57 pm. That gave them nearly 17 hours before they had to be back at the courthouse. A dose of strong painkillers would wear off in 12, and it would help Perry-and by extension, Della herself-get a decent night's rest.

"Take this," Della said in a 'no-buts' tone of voice. She passed Perry a full dose of the painkillers and a paper cup of water. He followed directions as Della slipped into the phone booth at the end of the hall.

She ordered a pizza for delivery. Neither she nor Perry were particularly fond of pizza, but Perry would need to eat within an hour after taking his medication. Della, who had been up since 7:00 am the previous morning,decided she would rather stick pins in her fingers before preparing a hot meal and cleaning up. They could handle a mostly-edible, mostly-warm pizza now and then if it meant all she had to do was hand some young kid a couple tens when he rang the bell and toss out an empty box when they were finished.

The pizza arrived just after they did. Perry, already a little dazed from his medicine, ate a few pieces and took himself upstairs.

Della immediately followed to help him set up a cushion of pillows against which he could lean and not move, preventing stitches from tearing open.

After settling Perry in bed, Della went back down to the kitchen to get everything straight for the next day. She shuffled papers between their folders and started the manila file that would house all the case papers after the completion of the trial.

Her purse was a mess, too, and she sorted out all the non-essentials. Among peppermint wrappers and a few empty sugar packets used to sweeten her styrofoam cup of hospital coffee were Perry's discharge papers.

Her heart had stopped when Ken's call had cut through her evening ablutions the night before…

00

"Della, something-there was a drive-by shooting after our meeting, and they got Perry-"

"Oh, God-what-"

"He's alive, he's alive. They're loading him in an ambulance right now and we're going to the hospital as soon as the police clear the road. The Catholic one, downtown-"

"I'll be there," she promised, slamming down the receiver, not giving a damn if Ken was done talking or not. The drive wasn't unlike the one just after the hospital had called to say he'd collapsed in the park with Stefan. This time, though, she was quite certain that it wasn't a ruse.

Della gathered as much composure as she could before rushing into the ER, realizing that she was wearing an old Georgetown sweatshirt of Perry's over a comfortable pair of pajama pants, along with slippers. Her hair was wound in curlers and it was all wrapped up in a scarf. To top it all off, she'd grabbed her black wool trench coat against the cold.

Ken was waiting at the door to the back hall and he waved her over.

"I convinced them to wait until you got here to put him under for surgery," he relayed as he lead them through the bustling ER. Ken swept back one of the curtains and Della's legs turned to jelly.

Perry was lying on his stomach, covered to the waist in a white hospital sheet. A huge gauze patch was taped over his shoulder and she could see that his blood was starting to seep through in a few spots.

"Darling," he groaned, wiggling his fingers in her direction when he caught sight of the hem of her coat and shoes. She gripped his hand tightly and tried to look at his partly obscured face and not at the bandages that were turning red.

"Perry," was all she could manage to choke out.

"He's going to be just fine. There was a little blood loss, but nothing major was hit. We'll be able to repair it in a few hours and with some rehab, he should regain full range of motion," captioned a doctor standing on the other side of the bed.

"I have to be in court at nine," Perry mumbled. Della bit back an argument. There'd be plenty of time for that. The doctor looked across the bed at her and Ken.

"Um...well, I suppose, as long as the surgery goes well, we can try?"

"Mr. Mason is arguing a very important case. This bullet was meant to take him out of it," Ken filled in.

"We really can't afford to lose even a day," Della admitted.

"I'll see what I can do," the doctor assured.

"And the bullet," Perry continued. "The bullet needs to go to the police laboratory right away," he insisted.

"I'll make sure it gets into the right hands," Ken assured.

"We really need to get started," the doctor insisted impatiently. Della nodded and leaned to kiss Perry's cheek.

"I love you," she said in a hurried hush. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"I love you," he whispered. "Ken, take care of my young lady," he called as the anesthesiologist hustled them out of the room.

Della paced the waiting room for a few hours, finally sitting down to pull the curlers out of her hair and apply whatever makeup she could find in the bottom of her purse.

The doctor walked in sometime in the wee hours of the morning, reporting that everything was fine, Perry would be waking up soon, and the bullet was on its way to the police lab. Della went in to sit beside Perry as he fell between waking and sleeping.

At 8:45, Ken walked in with a fresh suit for Perry and a dress and shoes for Della.

She changed quickly and then Della and a nurse helped Perry dress and sling his arm for court. The hospital had printed out a few pages of instructions for medication and sleeping and dressing changes, stapled it to the discharge, and Della shoved it all in her purse as she followed Typhoon Perry out the door and down the hall.

She wanted to cry in the elevator, seeing him hunched over, arm in a sling, leaning heavily on his cane. Instead, she squeezed his good shoulder.

"I'm glad you're okay," she murmured.

"I'm fine, young lady," he promised, turning his head to kiss her temple.

"Are you sure you want to go to court today? I'm sure, under the circumstances, that the judge will let Ken argue as co-counsel."

"I'll be alright. They gave me some high-dose aspirin to keep the pain manageable, and I feel fairly rested," he assured. "Did you sleep?"

"I don't need sleep. I have coffee and God's good humor," she replied. He chuckled. They released their semi-embrace as the door chimed and slid open, revealing a throng of reporters.

"Well, then, you lead the way."

00

"Some enchanted evening, you may see a stranger!"

Della was startled by the booming baritone coming from their upstairs bedroom. Abandoning her task, he hurried upstairs to see what had come over Perry.

"You may see a stranger across a crowded room, and somehow you know, you know even then, that somewhere you'll see her again and again." His good arm was thrown wide in dramatic gesture.

"What, may I ask, has gotten into you?"

"Just trying a new tactic to get your attention, Darling," he captioned before jumping back into the song. "Once you have found her, never let her go. Once you have found her, never let her go!"

Della stood awkwardly in the doorway as he finished.

"It seems to have worked," he decided, easing back into the bed.

"Yes, it seems so," she agreed, swallowing a chuckle at his drugged out state.

Perry Mason did not like losing his composure. She recollected only one or two times where he'd drank to excess, and even when he was in the hospital for knee surgeries, he only agreed to take the strong pain medication at night, and only in small doses. However, desperate times called for desperate measures, and these were some very desperate times.

They were due back in court at 10, just over 13 hours.

"Why did you need my attention?" she asked. He seemed perplexed by the question and thought hard for a moment.

"I think I needed a drink of water. Or perhaps I just needed to tell you how resplendently beautiful you are," he mused.

"I haven't slept since yesterday morning and I did my makeup in a hospital waiting room at three o'clock, so I'm not entirely sure you're telling the truth. I'll let you by with a warning this time." She winked and went to his dresser, where there was a pitcher of water. Della refilled his glass and he took a few long sips.

"And now, I shall kiss you," he decided, puckering his lips but not moving an inch. Della rolled her eyes but came to the head of the bed to meet his kiss.

"Are we ready for bed?" she asked. He smiled dazedly at her for a moment before looking around the room.

"It would appear as if I am already in bed, although it could be a very clever ruse," he said conspiratorially, pointing a wavering finger at her.

"I think you can trust me," Della comforted with a smile and a pat on the shoulder. "You're in our bed, and I about ready to get in next to you."

"Well, that seems like a delightful arrangement."

"It is rather delightful, isn't it?" Della agreed. After making sure that the house was shut up tight, she put on her nightgown and got in bed beside him.

"How are we supposed to snuggle if you are all the way over there? There's an entire bullet wound in between my heart and yours," Perry said.

"We might have to forgo the snuggling for a few nights."

"Nonsense! Absolute and utter nonsense!" Perry declared with the same gusto with which he would say, 'irrelevant, incompetent, and immaterial' in front of a judge.

"You're not supposed to move your shoulder. And that shoulder just happens to be the one I put my head on when we lay in bed like this."

"Objection! Ob-jection, your honor. This statement of fact is hardly necessary and I consider it evidence of...of... malfeasance on the part of this woman!"

"Shh. You're going to wake the neighborhood, yelling like that," Della scolded, though she was laughing to the point of tears.

"Well, I demand to be heard," he retorted.

"We're listening, counselor."

"I can't even sleep beside my own wife?! This…is...blasphemy! Or maybe it's tyranny ... whatever it is, it's preposterous!" Perry stated boisterously.

"Oh, calm down," Della hushed. "I'll be right here."

"Nonsense! The love is what does the healing. That's a scientific fact."

"Is it now?" Della asked, hiding a giggle behind a yawn as she made herself comfortable under the covers beside him.

"It is. I don't even think you can kiss it better from over there. You're practically a mile away."

Della nudged him with her foot. "I'm a little closer than that. But if you think I'm going to kiss your open wound, you're crazy."

"Defense concedes that point, your honor."

"I could however, give a kiss to some other part of you with instructions to pass it on," she offered, sitting up and leaning toward him with care not to bump his arm.

She pressed a gentle kiss to Perry's lips happy to find that even if his mind didn't quite know what was happening, his subconscious still remembered how to smooch.

"The get-better kiss is on its way, Chief," she whispered. "And this one, you can keep all yourself." He smiled into that kiss. She settled back into her own side, feeling the last 36 hours push her toward rest.

"Della, darling?"

"Hmm?"

"We're going to solve the case tomorrow. I can feel it."

"Me, too," she replied.

"Hold my hand?"

She did.


End file.
